Riku of the Opera Riku Kingdom Hearts
by Song of the Broken
Summary: Phantom of the Opera/KH crossover. Riku's transported to 1886, the Paris Opera. There he meets Christine Da'ae, a beautiful Opera star who acts strangely about the voice in her dressing room. Riku sets off to find out the mystery before returning home.
1. The Ice Blue Ascot

_A fan-fiction_

**Written by:**

**Chelsea Wilson**

_Music…_ he thought, _I can hear __music…_

A strain of violin floated out to his ears as he opened his heavy eyes. He was greeted by blackness and a musty smell that almost smothered him, making it hard to breathe.

" '_If you ever find a moment…' "_

Riku, straining, lifted himself up on his elbows, trying to see something, anything. He needed a light to bring him out of the darkness. Like usual.

"Wrong, wrong, _wrong!_" roared a voice off in the dark distance. "Are you deaf? What have I taught you? Tell me! Because I certainly didn't teach you that!"

A timid, woman's voice came from where the man's voice was coming from. Riku stood and tried to walk a few steps, "I must n-never strain on the higher notes in an aria-"

"So where did you learn to sing that way? I told you to never listen to the directors." The man's voice became soft, comforting. "Only listen to me. Only me. I know your voice better than anyone."

Riku tripped in the darkness and fell on a hard, wooden-feeling surface and plunged head first and toppled noisily on the floor.

He grunted in pain. "Real smooth, Riku. Real smooth."

"Excuse me? What are you doing here?" Came the woman's voice, slightly shocked.

Riku jerked his head up, a lamp light illuminated the small room that held a mirror and a changing screen. A pair of red pointe shoes lay across a small stool in front of the mirror.

"This is my dressing room. I'd like to know why you're in it."

He slowly looked up to where the soft voice came. A beautiful woman with long, spiral, curly blonde hair stared down at him expectantly with large, crystal clear blue eyes. Her skin was a pale, shade of a porcelain and glowed radiantly, almost like an unexplainable force inside her made her glow.

Riku found himself blushing painfully, caught off guard, admitting to himself that she was beautiful and he had no idea what he was doing here, which made the situation he was in even more uncomfortable.

He stood brushing off his clothes, then stopped his hands and gawked at his clothes. "What on earth?"

"I beg your pardon?" The woman asked, clutching a sheet of music to her chest.

"My clothes!" Riku's normal attire was replaced magically with a suit and an ice blue ascot at his neck. On his hands he wore white satin gloves with buttons on the sides.

What was going on? Where was he? Was he sent back in time?

"Please tell me why you are in my dressing room, sir! I've already had visitors for tonight," She slammed down her sheet music on the antique vanity and glared at him, "My next performance is tomorrow night, so if you'd be so kind as to leave my dressing room, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Uhhhh. Sorry. I uhm, don't really know where I am." He awkwardly bowed at his waist. It seemed like the right thing to do. He looked about himself at the lit room, "Wasn't there someone else in here with you? I thought I heard him yelling at you?"

Her face blanched as she balled her fists at her sides, restraining herself. "Sir, I would appreciate it if you _left_!" Her bare feet stomped on the old, wooden floor to the large door, flung it open with her left hand and pointed with her right out in the dark hallway. "Right away!"

Riku didn't move as he stared at her, making her feel uncomfortable, "What is your name?"

Her blue eyes seemed confused as she watched him warily. "Christine Da'ae, sir."

"What year is it?"

"What year? It's 1886." Christine moved forward, asking, "Are you alright?"

_No, not exactly,_ Riku thought as he blankly stared at Christine. "Where am I? What city?"

"Paris. You're in the Paris Opera house," Christine said, with a small twinge of an accent that Riku hadn't noticed before.

Riku jammed a hand through his silver hair and pursed his lips together. "Oh brother."

"Do you need help?"

"No! I'm fine." He jerked the ascot from around his neck and stuffed it into his black jacket pocket as he strode out the door. "Sorry for the trouble."

"Goodnight, sir." Christine said, holding the door handle in her hands, confused. The light shone behind her, making her a dark shadow in a doorway of the year 1886.

"Yeah whatever," He waved a hand as he walked briskly through the darkness, now realizing that the darkness he was in was a dark stage with the curtains shut tightly. The opera house was quiet and still. You could hear a pin drop.

Where was he supposed to go? More importantly, how was he supposed to get back?

How did he get here?

"Why am I here?" He shouted off into the darkness of an empty, black stage in frustration. He put his hands in his pockets.

All he could remember was sitting on the island in the sunshine, with Kairi and Sora by his side, wasting the day away…

So what happened?

Here he was, in 1886, the Parisian Opera House, dressed in some weird drab and not having the slightest idea where to go or what to do next.

"Monsieur," came a voice behind him.

Oh now what?

"What is it?" He turned around.

A small ballerina with dark blonde hair and brown eyes stared at him expectantly. "What are you doing here on stage? The show's far past over. You need to leave."

"Great idea. Where to?"

"Home?" She replied. She tilted her head to the side and blinked, "If you don't leave, the Opera Ghost will find some way to make you." She raised her eyebrows, "And I'm sure, monsieur, it won't be a pleasant way."

"The opera ghost?" Riku scoffed and laughed, "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm afraid so. And he doesn't take pity on old men, either."

"I'm not old!"

"But you are! Look at your hair!"

"It's naturally this color!"

"Whatever you say, sir. But all the same, I suggest you leave immediately."

Without a word, she walked off stage and into the shadows of the blood red curtains.

There he was, alone again.

Riku sighed, looking around at his new surroundings, at a loss. He could try to find a hotel? Some place he could go to straighten out his head, figure out a way to get back home. If there was a way, which he prayed to God there was. He didn't think he could stand living over a 100 years before he was even born.

A small creak was heard behind him. He turned and watched as Christine, in a navy blue shawl and plain, floor length, light brown dress scurry out her door and down the long, gaping hallway.

She looked suspicious…

So he decided to follow her. Something about the way she reacted when he spoke of the man that "wasn't" in her dressing room made him uneasy. She was hiding something, he just didn't know what. He did know it had to do with that mysterious voice and he was going to find out what.

He walked after her quietly.

A cold, uneasy feeling settled over him following Christine. There was something not right about this. Riku wasn't one to turn back in the face of danger. It was rather the opposite actually.

He took a quick breath and continued his small mission…

**_To be continued..._**


	2. The Next Night

"_Christine…"_

Christine heard her name being called as she stood off the stage, waiting for her cue to go on. The show was almost over for tonight, and yet, her angel was there, watching her. A chill trickled up her spine as she unknowingly bit her nails in anticipation. Maestro said that he had something to show her tonight after her performance, but he didn't give her any clue as to what it was. She was nervous and scared…

Her Maestro was unpredictable.

The music from the orchestra swelled and her heart soared to the old wooden rafters of the theater. He had a hold on her heart, though she could not see him. Maestro was a powerful, frightening, dangerous force that she loved. But she knew better. She had a haunting feeling that it wouldn't last.

_No! I mustn't think about that,_ Christine thought as she shook her head in the dark, _I'll think of something, I know I will._

Suddenly Christine was shoved forward and hard. She fell to the floor with a loud crash.

"Whoa, sorry." Came a voice from behind her that knocked her over. A white satin gloved hand reached down to her. She noticed an icy blue ascot around the man's neck as he pulled her up with a strong, secure hand. "It's dark, and uh… I can't see back here."

Christine narrowed her eyes at the young man, no more than 16 or 17. She remembered him from last night, bumbling around her personal changing room. What he was doing there, she didn't know. But he was suspicious, and Maestro didn't care for him. "You should watch where you step, sir." She whispered.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Well well. Look who's a diva. I said I was sorry."

Christine huffed quietly. "Very well. I apologize. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go on." She walked out gracefully on the stage and smiled into to spotlight, the audience in an uproar at her appearance.

Riku rubbed his jaw as if he'd been invisibly slapped. She wasn't as defenseless as she looked last night. He peered around the curtain to watch her, being careful as to not be seen by the audience. Christine was dancing around beautifully to a song in tonight's production of _Faust_. The only reason he knew that the music was from _Faust_ was because his Mom was a theatrical nut and thrived off of theater music. He'd heard _Faust_ played so many times it wasn't funny. Not to mention Mom dragged him to every showing.

"I do believe that you don't belong here, _Monsieur_." Hissed a voice from behind Riku.

Riku turned and saw…

No one.

_Not a soul_.

"Who's there?" Riku exclaimed, peering through the darkness. H saw no one at all in the back stage area of the opera. All he saw were hanging ropes and pulleys, curtains and mirrors. So then who was that?  
"_Ah, mon ami monsieur âgé, est de retour une fois de plus!_" (translation: "Ah, my elderly gentleman friend is back once again!") He heard from behind.

Riku turned around again, heart pounding fast. The small ballerina from the night before stood in a white and pink ballet costume. Her face was painted white and a star was on her right cheek and her full lips were painted red. She was smiling from ear to ear as other ballerinas flowed in from behind her. "I don't speak French. What did you call me?"

She giggled, "Nothing, Monsieur. You are back again so soon?"

Riku nodded, slightly annoyed. "Yes, what's it to you?"

"I only thought that an elderly man in your age could use some help finding your way around. You seem quite distraught."

"For the last time, I am NOT old!"

"If you say so." She laughed and walked up to him, "My name is Meg Giry. What's yours?"

Riku stared down at her strangely. "Riku."

"Riku… It sounds foreign. Where are you from?"

He glared, tiring of her questions. "The Bahamas. Now would you go?"

Meg's brow furrowed thoughtfully as she walked to his side and stared where he was starring. Her face dropped a little. "Ah. Christine. Are you spying on her?"

He blushed at the accusation. "What? N-No! I-"

"It's okay. Everyone does now. She's so popular with the people. The men worship her, so do our directors…" Meg muttered, hands on her hips. She pulled a smile back to her lips. "So does the Opera Ghost."

"Again with the Opera Ghost?"

"Yes! Surely you've seen him by now!"

"No, I haven't." Riku finally turned to Meg, who looked up at him with wide, expectant eyes. "What do you know? You're hiding something… what is it?"

Meg's cheeks turned red even underneath her white makeup. She blinked a couple of times, "Why would I be hiding something? What do you want to know?" She lifted her chin defiantly. "I have nothing to hide."

"Who is this Opera Ghost? What is he?"  
"He is who he is. He's a ghost, monsieur."

"There's no such thing!"

"Ah, that's what everyone says… before they die."

Riku ignored that last remark. "What does Christine have to do with this Opera Ghost? What does he want with her?"

Meg stared up at him, "He… loves her, sir. And she returns that love."

"Love. Are you serious? That's it? He's some freaky pervert that spies on famous singers." He rolled his eyes and put his hands in his pockets. "Why do I even bother…"  
"He's taking her tonight."

Riku cringed, "He's what…?"

"To his world. His music."

Riku was shocked at what he'd heard, "Does Christine know?"

"In her heart, I believe she does."

"So she doesn't know."

Meg looked uncomfortable, shifting from one slippered foot to the other. "… No. I don't think so."

Riku watched Christine again for a moment, a sliver of light lighting his face from the spot light. "He's taking her against her will…"  
"No! The Phantom would never do that!" Meg suddenly spouted angrily, "He's a gentleman and would never do anything to hurt her! He loves her!"

Riku turned, "You don't know that!"

"You don't know anything as well!"

"Meg!"

Meg gasped and her head dropped quickly.

A tall, thin woman walked toward Riku and Meg. She had a stern look on her face and a cane in her right hand. With her left she jerked Meg's arm hard and pulled her away from Riku. "Meg Giry, hold your tongue. You do not know what your words do."

"Yes, Mother…"

"And you, Monsieur," The woman's hard eyes narrowed at Riku, making him uncomfortable to say the least. "Forget what you've heard and stop sticking your nose in places it doesn't belong. Leave. At once."

And with that, she left with a protesting Meg.  
Riku stood where Meg and her mother had left him, not knowing what to do.

The Phantom… there was something about this man that made him uneasy. What was Meg talking about? Would the Opera Ghost actually take Christine? Where were they going?

Riku sighed impatiently. He had to figure it out. There was some reason he was here, and he had a hunch that this Ghost and Christine were apart of it. Thanks to Meg, he had a few new things to go on. He only hoped he was right about it…


	3. What Pointe Shoes are Made Of

Ropes groaned in protest as he pulled and tugged them into their intended places.

For his plan. It had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. He wouldn't accept anything else.

For her… She needed perfection, because she was perfect.

He chuckled with a smirk. It was all so simple.

Footsteps creaked softly down the hall behind Christine's dressing room, walking toward him. He knew he had to move quickly, just in case they decided to stick their nose into Christine's room where it didn't belong.

He moved closer to the shadows, looking through the two way mirror as the door creaked open, a stream of light illuminating a small portion of the larger sized dressing room.

A young man about the age of 16 or 17 leaned in the room, finding it dark.

_Blast!_ He thought, _It's that boy again. What does he want? What was his name? It was something odd, something Japanese. _

The boy walked in, lighting a candle on Christine's vanity. The small candle's light reflected off the small mirror set on the antique table, making the dim light somewhat brighter.

He remembered.

_Riku._

He watched Riku intently through narrowed, bright grey eyes. What was his business here?

Not that this mere boy was a threat, he could take him down any time he wanted, but since he was hanging around Christine so much, he felt that the boy needed investigating.

And elimination, if necessary.

Riku looked around the small, lit room, eyeing it suspiciously. He walked to the large, golden framed mirror to the right of the vanity. He ran a gloved hand along the frame, staring intently, figuring it out.

Riku crossed his arms across his chest, not finding anything suspicious. The only thing he'd found was an ugly, over done mirror. It was taller than him by two feet and wide. Why someone would need a mirror this big was beyond him.

Come to think of it, Mom had a huge mirror in her room, too…

Riku rolled his eyes and blew out the candle. Women. Them and their mirrors.

_THWACK!_

"OW!" Riku rubbed the back of his head with a nervous hand. He craned his neck to look at the open door.

"You perverted, old man! What are you doing in here?"

He looked at the floor. A white pointe shoe was laying decrepitly at his feet.

A small petite girl stomped into the room with one shoe on. Her face came into the light and Riku discovered that it was Meg Giry, the small ballerina.

"You threw a shoe at me!" Riku yelled, pointing to the shoe. "What's wrong with you?" He gingerly touched his head again, "What's in those things? _Concrete?"_

Meg stomped to him, stopping inches from his chest. "Why are you in here? What's your business!"

"I'm trying to get some answers, since you were oh-so helpful this evening!" Riku spat with vengeance.

"I'm trying to protect you, _you fool!_" She screeched in anger, her face screwed. She thrust a hand impatiently through her long, wavy hair, tapping her foot. "Why are you trying to find out about the ghost? What has he done to you? Why can't you just leave him alone?"

"He's dangerous. You said so yourself."

"Well then don't listen to me! Leave him alone!"

"No."

"Why? Why? He won't hurt you if you just let him be!" She yelled.

"He's got some weird plan for Christine, hasn't he? How is he NOT dangerous?"

"You do not understand! Listen to me-"

"-No, _you listen to me!_" Riku argured back down in her face. She wasn't scared one bit. "I understand PERFECTLY. He's going to take a woman against her will and do God knows what to her. It could be any minute now, and I don't have time to waste on a ballerina with an attitude that throws her footwear at people!"

Meg's mouth fell slack, then she blushed and looked at the floor, avoiding his eyes. "You fool. You fool… you know not what you do. You'll regret ever prying into this!"

"What do you know about him?"

"Oh, not this again, monsieur!"

"I know you know something!" Riku came close to her, narrowing his eyes, breathing heavy, "You're going to take me to him. Now."

"Meg!"

Meg rolled her eyes and turned, "Maman, je ne fais pas quelque chose de mal, je le promets!" (Translation: Mama, I'm not doing anything wrong, I promise!)

Riku saw Christine furiously enter her room, her beautiful face red and splotchy.

"Meg, vous étouffer? Que fais-tu ici? _Et pourquoi est-il ici?_" (Meg, would you hush? What are you doing in here? _And why is he in here?_)

"Ne me regarde pas! Je l'ai trouvé ici!" Meg crossed her arms, her brown eyes fiery and animated, smiling widely, "Vous pensez qu'il est mignon, vous n'avez pas?" (Don't look at me! I found him in here! You think he's cute, do you not?)

Christine looked astonished that Meg would say that, "Meg, vous agissez très immature!" (Meg, you're acting very immature!)

"ENGLISH! PLEASE!" Riku shouted, his head swimming.

Christine and Meg looked at Riku with eyes that looked like death. How dare he interrupt their conversation!

"Monsieur, why are you in here?" Christine asked, tiredly. He could tell that she'd had a long day at the showing tonight.

"You're in danger. The Phantom is taking you tonight." Riku said calmly.

TWHACK!

"Would you stop that?"

Christine's eyes grew wide as she stared at Riku. "How do you know this?"

Riku huffed and glared, "A violent ballerina told me."

"Meg, how did you know?"

"I can't tell you, Christine, you know that."

"You need to!" Christine ran to her vanity and sat down, a hand to her heart. She looked scared and excited. "I have to know."

Riku didn't exactly follow what was going on, but he said, "You're in danger. This guy's a creep! Who knows where he's dragging you off to."

"Let me handle this! You have no right to interfere with my personal life!" Christine suddenly jumped up from her chair, her once pleasant, soft voice, roaring in anger, "I don't know who you are, M. Riku, but you need to leave _at once!_ I didn't ask you to be my personal guard!"

"Well I'm not going to sit around and let you get kidnapped!" He said, "I'm sorry, but that's just not the way I work. I'm here for a reason, and I'm pretty sure you're my reason!"

"_Leave! NOW!_" Christine fiercely cried, pushing Riku and Meg out the open door.

"Christine, you are acting unreasonable-" protested Meg as she looked at Christine pleadingly, finding themselves in the door way of the dressing room.

"We will talk about this later!" Christine hissed to Meg, then slammed the wooden door in her best friend's face.

Riku was shaking his head and shoved his hands in his pockets of his dress pants. "Great, now I've got to think of a new plan."

Meg was still staring at the door that was so rudely slammed in her face. Her head robotically turned to Riku as her hand slowly reached down and began untying her remaining pointe shoe, dragging it off her foot.

"_How dare you…_ Why are you here, Riku?" Meg held the shoe in her hand, a blank expression on her cute face. Her eyes filled with tears, her nose turning red, clubbing him with her shoe, "I don't know what's going to happen now! I used to know! I knew until you came along and made things so _difficult!_"

Riku grabbed her shoe out of her hand and chucked it down the long corridor of the Opera House. Meg continued beating him with her fists, babbling in French and crying.

"I'm sorry…" He said, Meg still beating him. He didn't know what he was sorry for. He watched her cry. That was it, he made her cry. He cringed inwardly. That's why he was sorry. "Look, we'll figure out what to do..."

"_Comment savez-vous ce que vous faites? Tu n'es même pas français!"_ (How would you know what you're doing? You're not even French!) Meg's pounding began to lighten up and she sniffled quietly, while Riku stood there like a 6'1 punching bag. Meg finally ceased her pounding and wrapped her arms around him, still sobbing.

Riku stood there, confused. _Okay, first she's beating me up and saying things I don't know, and now…?_

He sighed, blushing slightly. He had to admit, she was really cute, especially when she's angry.

_Wait,_ he thought, _Let's not get too carried away here. She's just a girl…_

He let himself smile as he held her gently, Meg still sniffling.

…_But she's cute._


End file.
